Kyrie Eleison, Bartimeus’ Song

Bent underneath humanity,
huddled close behind darkened eyes…
palms open, empty.

‘Kyrie! …mercy for sinners.
Beg wholeness, wellness, while
Men take up stones, hurl words
One finger writes conviction into sand,
Accusations cease,
We go, sin no more.

If Kyrie! … dead men taunt ‘if’
Demand things withheld.
Reject the offering,
Press on insistent answers,
Who sinned?
Denying the least of these…

Kyrie! … mend  the broken
Hands and voices, lift them as a banner.
Over shame. Against defeat.
Shout all open hearts.
Quickly, before sight dims.
See here, little children, he bids us:
‘Come’.

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